I want to be pure
Like the clear mirror
so clear I can see my young bones
through the weird looking tan --
I even can see my future
The youth no wise man tells
The lame middle
refuses to be named unstable
And before the time calls I would have
wrinkles, tons of wrinkles
placed on the traces of nightmares
that would never stop --

I want to be pure
Like the clear mirror
Mirror so clear I can see my future --
I can see fat blocking veins
Heart older than its age
Lungs black as Odile
Nonfunctioning kidneys and intestines;
Pores so big you can sleep in it
Nose so flat you can surf with it
Body full of moons without suns
Moon as tummy, moon as face
No longer a phase
Blind left eye, deaf left ear
Half bald head and greasy hair --
In the garden; dear hibiscus corpses
and dead green flies --
Children avoiding, screaming when
I am coming

O, the mad woman
with bad breath and obesity
The grumpy lady
loved by so many STDs

Hey
I want to be pure, purer than ever
but when I was born
when I left the ****** womb
I had passed my purest --
Can't go back, can't go back ----


Now tell me, now tell me
When I am crying, am I beautiful too?

these words, i wanted
them to be read. but maybe
even that's too much.

I deserve some medical/neurological explanations.
Please just let me cry to sleep.
Or at least just let me cry.
Or at least just let me sleep.
Pick one, you.
I did.
I picked one. Doom.
My mistake lies in the pocket.
My mistake is written all over my face.
Bloom.
It doesn't have another meaning. I just happen & I got to end.

First my falling grades
Second the gravity
Now we can't even feel a space

Am I breathing underwater?
Did I come from a dark place?
We can't make them understand

Our love left undiagnosed
We're being stared at like a car crash
Far in the desert no one relates to

♢

Never end what makes you happen
Let it end you
Smooth and good and nutritious

♢

You are the plate and I am the food
I've always despised mouths, you know that
You would never ever let me go

I am sleepy but i
Don't want to sleep
And i
Wonder

If my body is still mine.
I could listen to this song
Till the end of my life, no
Even after i die

Till the end of the world.
I wonder what my
Ears think about me
And the songs

I force them to hear.
I cannot sleep
Any more, i cannot
Have brain any longer

No, i cannot.
This song is a song
Sweet and painful
So very much like love

Only truer.
I have to sleep
In my own chest
But it broke too sharp

I might be hurt
And i wonder if
My body
Is still mine.

Thank you it's ok I don't need your help
Please don't stick to me I am fine on my own
Stop talking to me stop telling me what to do
Leave me alone I have my own way
Stop trying to pretend that you know better
Don't help me I am fine with myself
Don't help me I am fine on my own

I'd rather lose the battle than be fake like you.

I become afraid
of the sun -- I just wanted
love -- she burned me twice.

When i think of you i think of death
A tasteless, neutral more than god
An easy one

When i think of you i think of death i think of mother
The last time i saw her eyes
They were fading like sharpie on my hands
They sounded like a cave, like leftovers

I do not think i could love anymore
When i think of that i think of a river or a sea
The beds and my body, the beds and my body
A casablanca, a jasmine, i wonder if the window would be high enough--
When i think of that i remember, charlie
Don't jump

Hometown, how i wish i don't belong
The towns where they don't know my name
The town that has known me for years
Yet i barely know her
It was me who decided to go home
Yet how i wish i don't belong
How i wish i was that strong

"Hey, stop it.
You are romanticizing."

Don't ******* tell me to stop
Don't ******* tell me to stop what i don't even started

I left my honesty
at home

and just like the nights
before, my roommate is

sleeping with her
glasses on.

1/
I once had hands like ******* and
when i touched your cheeks you became
bathroom floor.
I didn't tell father i am keeping the

bathroom *****, but i wouldn't let anyone
clean it.
My roommate is sleeping like a pig; i think
i, too, am becoming a higher being.

2/
Back to where it started
It started in somewhere like this;
the very beginning of despair
and all the dark agony
clouding your entire soul ---
it appears on your
skin so do not hide!
Do not hide
for you are so clear yet the world
is too blind

in my dream you were
running like a rat
wearing your fingertoes like
hydrangeas and heartache
in your head
where all the nice things passed out
we built barbed fences around our heart
to keep it still
like a ghastly statue
i had no clue
in my dream you were
planting apple seeds
in a corn field
i gave you a knife
became a mermaid
the last child
and a sea
in my dream you were
shining like a sun
brainlike exploding
having planets around
like flower crown
in my dream
you were
warm mug i'd left at home
three a.m. and homework not done
a highschool girl
long forgotten
in a potrait on your identity card

They won't understand
and i'd be okay with that.
Just a bit lonely.

mister, i have to say this
not to your face, just to get out
what was a medicine
now a poison

it's the longing, mister
that you fake, that i accept
because everytime we try to touch
we both disappear to each other

don't you notice?
you've been alive way longer
than me, mister

just
this is where i **** up:
i thought you were perfect

one breath is too loud
decades spent with ears covered
blocking all the noise

I am adding more and more poems
No matter what they are supposed to be called
No matter what numbers would define them
This is a life; not yet mine, but
I am building a home
A place where I can feel safe
A place where I can feel ugly
without being ashamed of it
Here is a life; not yet mine, but
I am still fighting
I am fighting
And I am planning to win.

Jesus, I be lifted higher
Higher, higher
Be lifted higher
Even though we are not the same
Different ways
And we walk on different path
Different road
I just copied that from somewhere
But it matches
With the notes
And be as one
Holding each other's hand in gratitude
Jesus, my arm is not that long
My mind is not that strong
I still have a picture of you on my phone
At night I delete it
The morning after I find you again
It is the lost children's song, it has no end
I can't hear you when I practice on bath
I can't feel you when the water fills me up
Magdalene would not come
It is Natalia
It is Natalia
Now you know who you are
Pictures of daisies on the front page
The blond, long hair
Ensnare my neck, my legs, even the chest
Heart not beating, it is quiet
Is it a candle or a sun? It just burns
The dark is casted away
But you say, dim the light because it helps
How could I not be your migraine?
Different gem pierced on your heart forever
Not really forever, just feels like it
The wounds never be healed
Seven lied that I would make a good healer
These hands are full of barb wire
Colored red of the blood or is it just corroded-
I dare not touch, I dare not move
It would hurt,
it would hurt not you, don't you think I care
Like the sword it is two edged
I need to sharpen my teeth for
the most I could do is biting my thigh
I am a baby trapped in the physique of an adolescent
I don't know I must praise you
And that it's you who is being lifted higher
My ****** friend says
There are a dozen or
two; At two I remember you
Still waiting at that cafe?
It is not me whom you are waiting for
I shouldn't have waited for seventeen years to come
It could have been a coincidence
It could have been real
It could
Not
Be possible and cannot ever be
We do not have the bridge
Ran out of concrete
It reminds me of Tanabata
The kind of one sided Tanabata
Today when I see the stars
I would cry

carrying a bridge, i
put myself between
you
r uncountable

thighs. i have one, sometimes
hating itself it wants to be
split in two, sometimes
it wants to have a hole, a room
to peer through

she is my only friend, but
she costs more than my worth

(if this was about the scale,
i broke it already)
sometimes i feel old, not cold
when the temperature drops
i stick my tongue out
and warm myself
from
with
in

(if this was about my grades,
it should've ended
before it even started)

this, a figure
i failed
a long time ago:
a child, a daughter
a face, a friend
a student, a spoiled rich brat
each one has become a stranger
fast
and sharp, right where i want
the hole gone.

i sit in the parking lot
longer than at class
i eat in my car more
than anywhere

the answer sheet is not mine, mister
it's hers
always

You taste like miscarriage
Back pain is free hugging
It's never been so clear how the walls are white
This room has two mirrors
None of them talks about medications

Your nose seems to know how kindle to the eyes the air is
It tastes like green chili
Or an itch on the back of your neck
You haven't shampooed in months
Stirred stomach

Maybe that is how she talks about the abortion
You hand me two roses
They have never had thorns
Last night I was throwing up tulips
Throat sour like some smile

Your tongue tastes like daddy
Lifted from chest
It was a surgery
You wish it had failed
They found Jesus instead

It is not chest pain
It is just enough that it tastes like pickled her
Bring the jar to you
I'll bring the jar to you
It is blended with your scalp and last Saturday's meal

It has never been so clear why the floor is white
This room has two lamps
None of them knows who Maryjane is
As we are so white as the pipes
I am going to the bathroom

Tomorrow you'll be fine
Just not today
Just keep holding on for tonight
Just repeat this day after day
Tomorrow you'll be fine

You were loved
It was a burden
You thought it would be unfair
To not return the love
So you let the deafening silence
Fill the room where your voice
Should have been

I know
You were afraid to love
And now
So am I
If it is not
You

Epilogue


you
only live
within my letters

hundreds
handwritten
unreplied

i
only live
when you say my name

blue
pseudonyms
reminds you of another

this
is no present
meaningless words

kept us alive
in each other's houses
no address

left
only a grave
two, i guess

on the death's face
i speak nothing of you
throughout my memories
i let you slip away
hide, hide, sweetheart
i'd pretend you never mattered
your voice i cannot hear
frequency out of range i cannot translate
row, row the boat i won't let you fall
this morbid course
you have nothing to do with

The first time i touched a girl i didn't know it was supposed to be light and tasteless. it was an earthquake, light just because i was so close to the earth. i remember my own tongue tasted like sea and blue.

The first time i touched a girl we were both 8. she laughed because i was trembling too much. my hands were cold like chilled tea, but she didn't know beneath her thick clothes that it was actually a thing.

The first time i touched a girl it was a girl with naturally red cheeks. my mother used to call her tomato cheeks, and i'd tell my mother how healthy her skin was. as healthy as her healthy hair, dark brown, long and smooth and straight.

It felt different when i couldn't touch a girl. not that i wanted to touch her, but we were 13, and she had a boyfriend, and i wanted a boyfriend too. but her smile was my cure and i kept searching for her teeth in the night sky.

When i was 15 i met a girl and we became good friends. when i touched her it was friendly but i wanted it to grow even more and more intense. i hadn't realized until i saw her bare back, i wanted her, i wanted her so bad i should stop.

But i didn't really stop. i do not stop, i am unable to stop. 11 years from when i first touched a girl i still long for tenderness and soft skin.

God this head is about to explode
with nothing is ever going on
nothing is ever getting done

hey, aren't you funny
come here, please do more
have my skin, breathe me in

i only want your hands, your milky fingers
well, your voice, your silky vibes
yes, calm me down, stop me when i raise my voice

just how did we become so old?
see how you did not change even for a bit
i begin to forget the years we have been through

were you even really there,
were you even real, hey,
before this really ends don't you just want to say something?

God my head is about to explode
isn't this too overwhelming,
all the years we have been through?

Ring ring the cat rings-
Like spider on the bathroom wall
He rings two times a day
Like a rain, like a tan
Like hidden bikini bridge
Legs like mermaid's, hair silver, eyes like shells
Swinging mood, jazzy tummy and warm wounds
Sleepy cups of coffee, sad iced tea and lemons
Where the heart is; a home
My chest is a home, a home I cannot live in
Cold air at night; cloudy night, shy stars
Sneezing God bless you, nails grow long like face
Haunted light, lonely melodica misses wind
Laying on the road, broken traffic light
Ribs trapping
Butterflies crying
Withering cream hibiscus, they want red, red like tongue
Awkward knocks do not feel like home
I wish of more cliches than empty
I wish of more fire, I wish of more stars--
Oh was that really the same sky, the same moon and sun as before?

Fallen leaves that are
Nourished by an honest wound ---
Never yet a scar

You make me feel like a pet snake or some precious stone
While all I really am is a warm, feathery thing with a heart, beating.
These two small wings,
I'd rather fly and be shot during my flight
Than be a flattering cold and be put in your fancy drawer

Wide glass window
in front of you
above a sleeping city
remote from your heart.
It is a waste
for you to shed tears
on such fabric
you know not for very long.

Are you going home
tonight?
The road has lost
its arms
to keep you safe.

When i wake up i will die
I will die sitting as you are sleeping on my lap
And you will not wake up and cry for my warmth is infinite
You think i am not dead
You think i am not dead

When i was a kid i thought i wouldn't want to marry
Though marrying doesn't mean having children
Maybe i thought i wouldn't want to have ***
It's just terrifying to think that i could just accidentaly have a kid
Children are scary
How they scream and laugh and cry and run
How those eyes stare, so brave, mysteriously intimidating
I am afraid
I won't ever have a child, i thought

But then i found that
it is so calming
To think of Assia and Shura
Together
Following Sylvia
Following Sylvia
I would like to have a child too
A daughter would be perfect
Or a son or an intersex, it doesn't matter
I just need her
I need my Sylvia
I need to follow Sylvia
I will follow her and will not leave her
She is not Jesus and i don't need to leave her and she will not ever leave me
We, Sylvia and i, will be one
This one infinite warmth
This one infinite warmth

For you the hell was icy
And devil's breath was frost
You were never ready for it
Cold shower had never helped
Sleeping in refrigerator
The ice cubes
For lunch, dinner, breakfast,
Lunch, dinner, breakfast-
You had your head
In the freezer all the time-
Wrong choice
More and more nightmares
You just could not be helped
People's stares only made it worse
Your blood vessels couldn't take it more
Mouth glued by frozen saliva
Eyes open all the time due to hardened tears
More and more nightmares
You were never ready for it
You were never ready for any coldness

Maybe poetry blog is more than just words and poetry and crafts and feelings. Maybe poetry blog doesn't even ever exist in this world. I struggle to write without typos and they keep coming back, coming back, coming back even though I've erased them to correct them. Everyone knows I do it out of love, so tremendeous yet tender and warm. The only thing we should never mention to public is that actually love is a bit slimy and disgusting and sometimes it reeks of three months old ocean water kept in a pink vacuum seal container.
I think I haven't really talk so much to forget the purpose why we are here. Why I try so hard to write this **** and why you soften your own heart just so you can survive reading trash in the face of words, trampled ideas, smashed soul it is actually pearl necklace and the beads are scattered completely gone just two left but I shall use it for my eyeballs. Or do you want? I can give it to you for free if you want these two beads of pearl inside your eye. It's not gonna be painful but you'll just learn about how to see without looking. If you're not satisfied, I can open your third eye, but only if you have it that is.
Hey, aren't you forgetting the reason we are all here? I think most of us now have forgotten about pretty much everything else, so, let me guess what we're going to do after this. Maybe we can go to somewhere without electricity and light bunch of candles. Some of us can read the bible aloud, dramatic, however they want. Some of us can play rope or ******* or such thing. Some of us can just wake up the sleeping world. There should not be sleep today. Sleeping is irrelevant nowadays. It's banned from now on. It's ok if you've gulped your sleeping pills, because it's always either not enough or too much. Either way the result isn't actually sleep. Once again, sleeping is banned from now on. This is where you choose, earthling. The fate is yours and all yours.

Clenched teeth, she is going to throw
her dear phone against the window

for the second time, fanning slow,
she is going to collect the pieces of sorrow

she mistakenly thought as flowery anger.
It doesn't shine blue, although it is fire

that burns true, that dances as kitten's purr;
Isadora sings, there is never a scarf so pure.

Sacred years, tingles between the pores,
sour-scented candles, scared youths, goodness

can only formed by time.
Butterflies are goddesses, they only

exist in sweetened myths. She,
she is a moth, timeless.

"One thing I want you
to know, darling;
you shall accept your
fears."

She understood
the flower's words
not
how to do it.

She still doesn't dare
to scream, to scream,
to scream even when her house is empty
and the neighbors are busy with
their
loud parties.

She is still afraid to cry;
her parents might be aware
of traces of tears on her cheeks
and ask her
"What happened?"
What happened? What really happens?
She doesn't even know
the answer. Never.

The flower knew
its words couldn't do
any change of good of her
yet it chose
such kind words.
Accept it.
Accept it, yes, she could.
She can. She understands.
Like climbing an apple tree
is really easy
for a fish
to think.

"Sorry about that,"
so she says, pointing at
her own weak, fake, forced days of life.

On Tuesday's newspaper;
a potrait of smile and
it's faded.

The flower was afraid
of changing. It was an apple blossom,
now a fruit
you eat one a day to keep
the doctors away.

And after that I am still a hollow where the
fairies hide from darkness and poisons. I
am still growing flowers out of my womb
and that is why they stink like *******.

And after that your disbelief kills all my
sparky pixies and after that I cannot be
anything more than a hollow hollow. But
yeah I am still growing flowers out of my
wound and that is why I scream and cry
when you touch them.

And after that the stillness of the air inside
me and the remnant echo of morning songs
attract the darkness to come. And after that
I think she may feel lonely so I invite
poisons to also come along.

And after that I am still growing flowers
out of the wound on my womb. They still
stink like ******* and after that
vomitting feels like womanhood thing. And
after that my flowers are still immortal and
that is why sometimes you see blood clot
floating around the moon.

My bones keep destroying my kidneys;
If only I had any brain,
If only I could have any intelligence.

Sorry. It is my fault I cannot tell stories.
It is in my DNA.
Sometimes I do, but I do not do.
Most of my doings are based on disorientations.

I would pray for you, mother,
You had to give birth to me.
I could bleed, or sleep.
My mouth could marry a hurt like that.

And each prayer is a sin.
You've been forgiven but I can't stop.
Sorry.
It is my fault that you met father.

i Let It Consume me Like i Am Some Rice Porridge, So Easy, So Easy i Slip Into The Throat And i Warm Its Belly, Only To Have All my Nutritions Absorbed, Gone Forever And i Can't Ever Be With Them Anymore And Now i Feel So Cold And Groggy Or Maybe Just Not Wanted As Much As How i've Always Known. One Day i Am In The Toilet But Not For So Long Because After It Finishes i'll Be Flushed Into Nothingness Not Even my **Smell Remains And Toilet Is Now Citrus-y Like Before Again.

my head is compact of lavender clouds
near an ocean of calm planets
harmony, cosmos

blinking your stellar dreary eyes
waltzing with vanished gods
resurrecting banned faith

they build a temple on our tomb
smash the headstone to make charms
meteorite, how you cast at me

who made them worship?
who told them gospel?
we sing psalms, electric

dethrone the crossbearer
inferno is our home
impaired, thunder

Your fancy poetry
does not touch me.

I started writing poetries
But all I could read from it was
The sound of bones cracking
Another cry I always told myself not to be let out
The sound of eyeballs falling to a spring

I kept repeating your recorded voice
Breathing to it over, over, all over again
Couldn't smell your soul
Couldn't feel the warmth of your breath

I accidentaly broke my chest, ripped my heart,
Accidentally casted the darkness away
Couldn't find you
Couldn't see you

How was your voice again?
It was a dusty bluish green
A moss-covered 2 p.m. bright sky

Do you ever see our star?
It's called "sun"
The one that casts you away from your mind
But not mine

I fall because I
am afraid of height, I fell
but am still afraid.

You and I, we, will pass
just like the rough nights
I thought would last forever.

You wish
You were broken so
You could be fixed. But sadly
You are enough.
You are so enough and strong and beautiful and
You shouldn't feel so bad about yourself.

"Forefingers are small,
don't you worry about it,"
she says to an ant.

You are a stomach
full of carbonara, stale
milk in the morning

A room white and bright.
We were so clear, we were just like a child.
Honesty wasn't a sin.
Society was *******.

A room clean and fresh.
Nothing like flowers, nothing like perfume.
All was pure.
Cries and laughs were genuine.

A room sincere and curious.
The voices did not bother us.
Ignorance did not matter, nothing did.
Only a life.

gentle air, so soft
every move makes
a mark, hidden

from the sight
rare darkness
silence-enveloped

house, a distinction
sound, each wave
is moon-pulled

i've forgotten
what bitter tastes
like. every *******
thing
is sweet, is fresh, is
a fuji apple
with the skin peeled,
the flesh quick-soaked
in saltwater, the seeds taken
as softly as
the milk teeth.

Slice the apple
Billion apples
And billion others

They are getting brown
Why don't you eat it?

You are busy
Slicing
Carving red-brownish swans

Stop it
Snow White does not exist
Apples are not needed

The nonexistent seven dwarfs
A dream of a black Cadillac
An eternal long march
Inaudible Amazing Grace

Two billion apple swans
Turning brown and more brown
They frown

At you
Why don't you eat it?

A fragile glass swan I bought when I was seven.

I started burning
Like a phoenix